“What would a won war look like?“ Read more
Happy Birthday to me! Two days ago I became another year wiser!!! Read more
Evolution can forge in many shapes in our lives. It can frame like a tidal wave, or crawl further progressively like poisonous weeds. It can advance in the cast of a wounding agony such as unfortunate options, beaten love affairs, or even new chances of possibilities and freedom of opportunities.
Bleak stretch of time comes crawl in, always unannounced, and overlooked. They grab you by a bombshell, and when you look for the bullets you cannot even find a trigger to confront with them. All you can manage to survive with is some old songs of faded times that made you felt better once.
Hello everyone! I hope your Christmas week and preparations are going well. Are you all ready for the big family celebration? I cannot believe how quickly the month of December flew by and unimaginably the whole year.
Dear ones, when I was growing up, Christmas was about food, family, beautiful dresses and shoes, holidays from school. It was one of the happiest times of the year. Having raised in an Anglican Family, I have always had a deep connection to the birth of Jesus Christ.
Yesterday 11th November was Remembrance Day. On that day I thought of all those who went to the battle field to save their countries, and I wore a “poppy”as a sign of respect!And most of all I always remember and think of my father who joined the British Army as a young man. When I was growing up, he told me lots of stories about soldiers, his army days and how life was being a soldier. I learned from him a song “He’ll be coming round the mountain when he comes” and that was the song that him and his soldier friends sang and I grew up knowing this song by heart. He taught me how they paraded and I did it too with him and it was fun time I had, and to date I still remember all those laughing moments I thought I was a “little soldier girl.” I still remember “YES SIR, NO SIR.” He was a dad who continually loved telling me of his life as a soldier all through my years of innocence until to the day that I came to comprehension of the whole affair of one being a soldier.
Hand written letters are gifts of time!
There is a vestige that is missing – Ink, pen, paper and Handwriting.